


In which Dr Watson gets a taste of his own medicine

by sherlock221Bismymuse



Series: In which..... [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, Greg Lestrade is a Good Friend, John Watson Being an Idiot, M/M, Molly is the best, Mycroft Holmes is always watching, Pining Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-01 18:52:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15149627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlock221Bismymuse/pseuds/sherlock221Bismymuse
Summary: The title says it all :)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by a very short dialogue from TBB which I didn't even notice the first time around and it broke my heart when I heard it at the second viewing. It shows up in a later chapter.

One day Molly has finally had enough.

She is just so done with the secret glances, the suppressed emotions, the biting of lips, the overly controlled body language and the frisson of unspoken sexual tension.

“Sherlock,” she says, softly but firmly. “I cannot bear this anymore. You simply HAVE to tell John how you feel!”

Sherlock did not look as startled as she had expected, nor did he bite her head off. He knew that if anyone could see him, it was Molly. It was always Molly.

He sighed and kept looking through the microscope hoping that if he ignored her she would go away.

Just then Greg came in through the lab doors, looked around to find Molly and smiled his 1000 watt smile when he saw her.

“Molls sweetheart”, he said, crushing her into a bear hug and giving her a deliberately loud kiss. She hugged him back and returned the kiss with as much fervour.

Sherlock just shook his head and raised his eyebrows knowing that today this especially noisy greeting had been for his benefit. Greg and Molly had been seeing each other for a few months now but no one else knew. They did not hide it from him because he would have just deduced it and probably revealed it in the most embarrassing situation possible. So they had just told him directly and asked him to be discreet.

“OK, get on with it”, he said in a resigned way. “Both of you have something to say to me. Let’s hear it.”

Greg and Molly looked at each other conspiratorially and he nudged her to speak.

“Well Sherlock, you know, Greg and I have been thinking….”

Sherlock interrupts with a snort.

“Hey mate” Greg said,” I am one of Scotland Yard’s finest and Molly here is as brilliant as you, you know that! So cut it out….”

Molly blushed on cue but carried on, “And you know that we both care for you very much”.

Greg looked at her tenderly when she said that.

He had seen her survive her one sided love for Sherlock and he had seen it evolve into something stronger and even more solid if that were possible. He knew that even Sherlock recognized its power and knew that she would have his back, no matter what. Greg himself also knew that such quiet but fierce and loyal love was just Molly’s way. It was also the way she loved _him_ and he knew the depth and strength of that love and never felt even an iota of jealousy for the place Sherlock had in her heart.

When Sherlock heard Molly say that she cared he finally did look up from his experiment, crossed his hands in front of him in a defensive posture and said, “Well?”

“Well…”she fumbled a bit and glanced at Greg who gave her an encouraging nod. “ We thought you need to do something actively to get John’s attention rather than you know just wilt away like a Victorian heroine.” And here she giggled as Sherlock’s face expressed complete outrage at this comparison.

‘I. Do Not. Wilt’. He said in a clipped way.

‘No, no of course not mate. What she means is, the time for waiting is over. It’s time to act’ and Greg slapped his palm on the table making everyone jump.

‘And what exactly do you propose I should do?’

‘Well”, Molly said, “We observed the things John does to show that he is single. He always corrects people when they say you are a couple. He always says he is _not gay_. He flirts with women. He regularly dates women and spends the night with some of them too.”

Then she cleared her throat. Some observations could cut close to the bone and she was never as thoughtless in voicing them as Sherlock could be. But some things needed to be said.

So she continued softly. “And he always assumes that you will be there, back at the flat, whenever he gets back from his dates.”

Sherlock had gone absolutely still at this. If it was anyone else telling him he would have spoken out in John’s defence, making arguments on his behalf, explaining things away. But with Molly he could never bullshit. And neither could he with Lestrade.

They had him there. Denial was no longer an option.

He still had to try though. “And what makes you think any of this bothers me?” he said flippantly.

Molly came and stood right in front of him in response and said. “Ok. Look me in the eyes and tell me that you are not in love with him and that all this behaviour does not hurt you and that you would rather that things stay the way they are.”

Sherlock looked her in the eyes and she saw the fear on his face and he opened his mouth and closed it and no sounds came. He turned away.

She could not help herself then and she put her hand up to his cheek and said “It’s ok. We want to help you Sherlock! Do you trust us?”

He nodded because he did not trust his voice to not crack.

“That’s my good man”, said Greg heartily, coming to pat him on the back and dispel the emotional atmosphere.

“So what we want you to do is give the good doctor a taste of his own medicine!”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John leaves for a date. But then so does Sherlock. Uh oh.

That Friday evening John came down the stairs of his room wearing the blue checked shirt which he had been told brought out the colour of his eyes. He had on his date shoes and a new spicy aftershave.

“Sherlock?” he called out. “I am going for dinner. With Amanda. Please do not call me or interrupt me or in any way sabotage my date! I will not respond to your texts because that had made her very angry the last time and today is our third date so…..you know , I am hoping things will go well…”

“Sure John”, came a voice from Sherlock’s bedroom. “Have a nice evening! Hang on, wait up a minute, I am also leaving. We can go down together.” And he came out of his room wearing ( _seriously well-fitting)_ jeans and a black shirt open at the collar, smelling…( _divine?_ John’s brain supplied the word), and carrying a new deep purple scarf. His hair was a curly riot as always but his face….he looked slightly nervous but excited. _Eager._

John was too startled at the sight to even say anything for a few seconds. He just gawped at him, his face looking exactly like the goldfish Mycroft spoke about with such disdain………

“Wh….what…where are _you_ going?” he finally asked Sherlock. “Is it a case?”

_(Ah John you see but you do not observe.)_

“Just meeting someone for dinner John.”

“You have a DATE??!”

“Well…,” said Sherlock slowly and deliberately. “Everything cannot be labelled into neat little boxes the way you like it John. Date, dinner, evening out. Gay, straight, bisexual. Feelings, love, romance. It’s all a spectrum.” And with a wink and a nod Sherlock opened the door of the flat and was bounding down the stairs ahead of him.

“Oh John,” he said turning around. “I may be back late. If at all! Laters!” and he vanished.

John took two entire minutes to collect his thoughts, shut his mouth and go down to find a taxi.

He discovered that thinking of Sherlock continuously through his date and checking his phone every few minutes made Amanda even angrier than when he used to keep responding to his flatmate’s texts. They barely made it through the main course and when she refused dessert, he knew the date was over.

He went home right after the meal, slightly cranky and unsettled and told himself it was all Sherlock’s fault as usual for having thrown him off his good mood by being all mysterious ( _and though he dared not admit it even to himself, so alluring and….desirable_ )

_Huh._

John changed into his pyjamas and went to his room and lay down in bed , distractedly flipping through some medical journals.

_(Yes John, better than admitting that you are kind- of waiting up to hear Sherlock come in.)_

He woke up in the morning to the realization that he had fallen asleep and missed the genius coming back or ………..as he realized when he went downstairs to the kitchen, the genius had not come back at all at night.

John was not sure what to think of this.

He put the kettle on to boil, and pulled down two cups automatically and then stared at the second one.

_Who could Sherlock have gone with? And to not come back at night?! That was just….well, (his brain suddenly supplied)—it still could be for a case!_

And he brightened a little. But then his shoulders sagged again.

_Surely Sherlock would not have left him behind if it was a case?_

He checked his phone. There were no new messages. None at all.

He had his tea and got ready to leave for the clinic and finally could not resist. He pulled out his phone and texted Sherlock.

{You didn’t come in last night? Let me know if you are ok.}

He looked at the message before sending it. _I sound like his mum_ he thought. And erased it.

He typed another one.

{Looks like you had a good time last night ;) See you later at the flat?}

He looked at that message again. _Too cheerful and a bit needy._ He deleted it.

He typed another one.

{All ok?}

 _Yup. He could live with this_. And he pressed send.

********************************

When Sherlock left the flat the earlier evening he had taken a taxi and gone straight to Molly’s flat. Greg was also waiting there for him.

Sherlock had had some qualms about ‘ _being mean_ to John’ as he put it.

Molly had found that phrasing so adorable that she had giggled while he glared at her. Then she and Greg had both explained to him that when people said ‘ _all is fair in love and war’_ this was precisely the kind of stuff they meant.

He had still demurred and said that John wasn’t hurting him on purpose. John didn’t know how Sherlock felt for him so how could he expect……but he saw the look Molly and Greg shared and he stopped talking.

He sat frowning and was about to bite their heads off when Molly placed her hand on his.

“Sherlock, just playing this little game is troubling you so much because you _really_ do love him. You are never going to say anything to him directly and maybe he will never talk to you about his feelings. You know how you are always telling John that he sees but does not observe? All we are trying to do here is to _make him observe_. To _realize_ his own feelings for you. We both think he does care for you, probably as much as you care for him. Give this a month at the most. If he genuinely cares for you, he will not last that long. But if……”and she trailed off, never able to get herself to say anything that would hurt Sherlock.

Sherlock looked at her, and completed her words. “But if he does not then maybe I need to get over him.”

Molly looked at him sadly and he suddenly realized what she must have gone through with her feelings for him and was overcome with a wave of guilt followed by admiration for her strength that allowed her to continue to stay close to him and even help him find his own true love. He remembered the horrible things he had said to her that Christmas and it made him cringe inside. He made a silent promise to never let her down again.

Greg could not bear to see Sherlock look so dejected. He gave him a light punch on the arm and said, “Hey, listen up genius, we are both quite confident it won’t come to that. Consider it an _experiment_.” He turned to Molly and asked her,” So, love, what have you planned for us today?”

Molly blushed at the endearment that slipped so easily from Greg and said, “I thought we could just have a night in, with some takeaway and telly? Not sure if Sherlock should be seen outside alone. So that John doesn’t know what he is up to.”

“Smart. Yes, sounds good to me,” said Greg with his easy going grin.

Sherlock just looked moody and irritable and sat _(sulked?!)_ silently on the sofa. But eventually unbent enough to participate in a game of Dumb Charades. The game left Molly and Greg both collapsed in a heap with tears of laughter rolling down their cheeks at Sherlock’s utter lack of knowledge about films or TV and his bewildered attempts at guessing their (decidedly) lame acting.

As a result they built up quite an appetite for the Thai takeaway which they managed to wolf down in minutes, even Sherlock daintily eating four spoons of jasmine rice and green curry.

Later, as they were cleaning up in the kitchen, Greg gave Molly a gentle hug and kissed her. Sherlock saw that and promptly became uncomfortable. He wondered if he should probably leave them alone but Greg anticipated that and held out his hand to wave at him.

“Don’t worry Sherlock, I am off early. Have to be in court for a hearing tomorrow morning. You can hang out here. Best if you don’t go back to Baker Street tonight.”

When Greg left, Molly changed into her pyjamas and tentatively offered Sherlock her bedroom. “The sofa may be too small for you….”

“Thanks Molly but I don’t plan to sleep. If I could just use your laptop I will work and I will leave in the morning.”

When Molly woke up in the morning Sherlock was asleep all over the sofa, one leg flung over the furthest corner and one hand dropping down to the carpet. She smiled at him fondly and made tea and breakfast and finally woke him up as she was about to leave for St. Bart’s.

He woke up, quite disoriented, and just then his phone chimed. He looked at the screen. John. Asking if all was ok.

He showed it to Molly with a questioning expression.

“Don’t reply,” she said. “Till around noon. Then say “Busy night :) Tired. See you in the evening.”

Sherlock looked at her with narrowed eyes. “Have you always been this wicked or did I just not see it earlier?”

She just laughed and left with a wink and a wave.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John's brain is on full Inside Out mode. Anger, sadness, frustration, jealousy, possessiveness , denial, longing....all kinds of emotions pass through simultaneously and incoherently.

That evening when John came back from work, he climbed up the stairs a little faster than usual and as soon as he opened the door of the flat his eyes were searching for Sherlock.

He found him at the kitchen table, eyes glued to the microscope.

“So”, said John in a hearty voice, “You must tell me all about this interesting evening you had or should I say night” and he winked.

“Ah well”, Sherlock replied. “A gentleman should never kiss and tell you know.”

John’s jaw dropped. “Did you mean that as a figure of speech or ……?”

“It is early days yet John. All will be revealed when the time is right.” said Sherlock soberly. “Shall we go to Angelo’s for dinner tonight?”

John would never say no to that suggestion anyway but today he was even more eager to have Sherlock to himself and hoped that the conversation over dinner night reveal something of what was going on with his flatmate.

_Yes. Flatmate. Also best friend. And partner. Just professionally of course….._

They went by taxi and Sherlock was texting non- stop so John just sat in silence, framing his questions, figuring out the right tone in which to ask them without annoying Sherlock or allowing him to deflect……

They sat at their usual table and when Angelo came in beaming and started to place the candle on the table, Sherlock stopped him with his hand and spoke crisply and clearly.

“Angelo. We are not a couple. This is not a date.”

Sherlock did not seem to register John’s expression when he heard these words. He gave Angelo a charming smile. “I _am_ seeing someone and I will certainly bring my _date_ to your excellent restaurant one day. Soon in fact, I _promise_! But please take this away today. People will talk.”

Angelo just beamed at him some more and put the candle back in his pocket.

“Oh but they do little else! Never mind all that. It will be such an honour for me, my friend! I will bring special candle and extra special menu just for you when you bring your date here Sherlock!” He kissed his fingers in his direction. “Today I bring your usual?” He asked and Sherlock nodded.

Angelo turned to John, winked at him and left.

Every single question John had framed had left his brain when he heard Sherlock stop Angelo and explain to him that they were not a couple.

_Oh John …why did that bother you so much today??? You yourself have said those words on almost every occasion that both of you came here and whenever Angelo assumed you were dating. You had said it with surprise, disdain, annoyance, resentment, eventually with resignation but you had always said it and wait….. hold on. Sherlock had NEVER denied that till today. Sherlock had never once corrected anyone who thought they were together or dating or a couple. _

A strange hot and cold feeling ran through him _._

_But today was different. Sherlock was confirming that they were not a couple. Because he was going out with someone._

_SOMEONE ELSE._

_Sherlock was going to be a couple with SOMEONE ELSE._

_He was going to bring SOMEONE ELSE with him for dinner to Angelo’s._

_This restaurant was going to become their special place. Not Sherlock and John’s special place any more…_

_._

_._

_._

Suddenly John did not want to ask _any_ questions about Sherlock’s date last evening and did not want to hear _any_ answers. He wanted to pretend that it had not happened. Yesterday was a glitch in the matrix and they were still jolly old best friends out for dinner.

Nothing was going to change. Nothing.

Just then Sherlock cleared his throat.

_Oh god, thought John was he going to TELL him about his date?!_

He almost had the strong desire to close his ears and shout LALALALA to prevent himself from hearing any of it. Instead, of course, what he did was to launch into a complicated and long story of some interesting patients at the clinic and then the conversation veered somehow to the Great Fire of London and eventually John just sat there and listened as Sherlock gave some animated discourse on arson and fire-fighting.

They did not have a candle at their table that day but Sherlock’s face glowed with an inner fire, as it always did when he spoke about his deductions and crime and ….. _did his date enjoy this too? What did they talk about? Did his date stare at him in fascination and adoration…no he meant admiration……admiration ……..haha …..of course. Admiration was the right word._

And these thoughts derailed his emotions once again and he felt rather miserable in a vague unsettled sort of way despite the lovely dinner and the fascinating conversation they had had till that point.

*****************************

When they got back to the flat John was strangely reluctant for the day to end. He sat down on the sofa and switched on University Challenge _(mainly because he thought that it might tempt Sherlock into joining him there on the sofa and he was right.)_ The genius could never resist an intelligent quiz show and so John enjoyed the spectacle of Sherlock yelling out the answers to every question almost before it was asked. Except the sports questions where he glared at the telly as though it was a personal affront or a conspiracy.

‘Idiots’, he grumbled.

John knew all those answers instead and he chuckled when Sherlock huffed and grunted and eventually switched the telly off.

“Ok”, said John, getting up. “I have had a really long day and an early start at the clinic. See you tomorrow morning. Get some sleep.”

He almost fell back down when Sherlock responded with a stretch and a yawn and said “Yes, I think I will get some beauty sleep. This dating business is quite exhausting.”

And with a wink, he shimmered off into his bedroom and closed the door.

John stood there with his mouth open and his mind buzzing. It took him an entire minute to gather his wits and then he slowly climbed up to his own room.

************************

When John came down the next morning Sherlock seemed to have left the flat already.

John made two cups of tea out of habit, realized, poured the second one out and drank his own tea, ruminating on the sudden change in his genius flatmate’s behaviour.

_Who could he possibly be dating? Did he even understand what dating involved? What kind of a person would engage Sherlock’s attention enough to last even a couple of hours? Polite conversation was not his area. He found almost everyone to be an idiot. Was it someone _really intelligent _? Like a scientist? A_ rocket scientist _? Would he learn about the earth going around the sun finally?_

_Would he date a man or a woman? What would he do on a date? Would he sit in a café drinking black coffee and eating chips? Or would he prefer some posh place with chandeliers and overstuffed chairs? Would he hold the door open for his date? Would he hold hands as they left the café? Or would he put his arm around the shoulder and walk close, both of them bumping into each other as he looked at the person and smiled……and then bent down to….._

John suddenly felt hot and cold all over again.

Just imagining Sherlock cozying up and walking with someone and smiling and …….perhaps kissing…. made him feel something he had not felt in years.

He _hated_ with a strong passion this nebulous, un-named faceless person who was making his or her way into his flatmate’s life. He _hated_ the idea that Sherlock would share that quirky half smile with anyone else. Or that he would wink at someone else at an inside joke.

He did not want Sherlock to enjoy anyone else’s company the way he did John’s……..He did not want to share him with anyone…..

Good heavens. John buried his head in his hands. He was sounding like a jealous and possessive boyfriend! _What was WRONG with him??They were NOT a couple._

_No!_ He told himself angrily. He was just _worried_ because he _cared._ As a friend. A very close friend. A best friend.

He knew Sherlock _better than anyone else_ and he was his _protector_. His _guardian_. Had been from the day he shot the cabbie. Had been every single day since when he reminded him to eat and sleep. Had been every time he dressed his wounds and defended him against Mycroft’s slights.

_What if the new person did not understand how Sherlock had no experience with deep emotions and ended up breaking his heart? Or worse, what if…. Sherlock ended up falling in love with this someone else and had no place for John in his life anymore? _

John had a sudden vision of the future with Sherlock and the ‘person- who- shall- not- be- named’, living in 221B, with a fire burning, snow falling outside, Sherlock playing the violin while his ….this person …hugged him from behind and Sherlock turned around and smiled. He would keep the violin down and hold hands and bend down to ….…..and John felt a sharp pain in his chest.

_What was WRONG with him?? Why was his brain making this seem so much more romantic than anything he had shared with any of the women he had dated?? He heeded to snap out of it._

_He was NOT gay and Sherlock had NEVER shown any inclination of wanting to be more than a friend._

He needed to take a shower.

A cold shower.

And go to work.

*************************

Meanwhile Sherlock was at Bart’s having coffee and donuts with Molly and Greg as they discussed the latest body that had been found in a vat of hydrochloric acid in an abandoned industrial estate. Molly hadn’t had much to go on but Sherlock had picked up on one almost invisible reading of iron deposit suggesting an old tattoo and they had used a UV light torch to find it and then called Greg and now they were here enjoying the break after having solved the crime.

“So….” Greg said, his mouth full of donut crumbs. “How is it going with John?”

Sherlock shrugged. Molly and Greg exchanged glances.

“Has he noticed anything? Said anything?” Greg continued.

“Well, he asked about my ‘date’ but I didn’t tell him anything as Molly had instructed.” Sherlock replied in a flat tone. “Then we had dinner at Angelo’s. I said all the things you told me to. We chatted about the Great Fire of London and ….things and after dinner we went home and watched telly’.

Molly looked a bit worried at this. She had expected John to be more interested or at least curious if not actively hostile at this change in roles. But then Sherlock was not very perceptive about emotions so it was entirely possible that he had not understood the subtle tells or the sub-text.

They needed a better observer. In fact maybe both Molly and Greg needed to observe.

And so they decided on planning a picnic.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The picnic is planned. The game is afoot ! Molly and Greg are being wicked...... but such good friends to Sherlock :)

On Wednesday morning John’s phone buzzed with a message while he was at the clinic.

It was Sherlock.

He read the message.

** Free this weekend? **

{Is there a case?}

** No **

John cursed _. The bloody git. Mr. I-prefer- texting. And then he would text mysterious and unclear things like this. What did this message mean?_

{So what then?} He replied.

** A picnic.  **

{Is this a joke?}

.

.

{Or an experiment?}

** Neither. It is the answer. **

{Ok…… To which question?}

** How was my date. **

John sat up straight. He went back and read all the messages. Decoding Sherlock-speak, what the genius was asking him was to join him with his date for a picnic that weekend.

{ Seriously?? You won’t mind me being there as a third wheel ;) }

** John, are you running out of alphabets? **

{No really, are you sure?}

** Yes. **

** ……. **

** Greg will also be there. **

John’s eyebrows shot up. _Greg knew about this before him?_ A stab of jealousy shot through him. He clenched his jaw. He took deep breath.

_Maybe it was someone Greg knew. Was it someone from the Yard?? Couldn’t be. There was simply no one there who Sherlock would tolerate for even a minute. Except Greg himself. And that was also unpredictable. Anderson was out. Greg himself was not a possibility cos Sherlock had said he will ‘also’ be there._

_That left Sally._

_No! NO! Not Sally?! But wait a minute…..that made sense actually…..maybe all that hostility had been from suppressed sexual attraction and desire……and oh JESUS was Sherlock was dating Sally ?! No, this could not be happening…._

He texted Greg.

{Hey Greg}

HI JOHN.

Greg showed his phone to Sherlock and Molly, grinning away. _Exactly as they had predicted. Well…….really as Molly had predicted. But he had agreed. Oh never mind._

{Do you know anything about this ‘picnic’ Sherlock is talking about?}

OH YES MATE. HOPE YOU ARE JOINING US?

{ **Us**? Is it a Scotland Yard thing?}

HA. NO. YOU WISH.

John wondered what more he could ask without sounding desperate or in the dark. As he was looking at his screen and thinking, Greg sent one more message.

GOTTA GO. SEE YOU ON SATURDAY.

John put his phone back thoughtfully and somehow made it through the remaining three hours in the clinic. When he got back to 221B he put the kettle on and waited for Sherlock to come home.

 _Of late it seemed that he was doing that a lot._ He realized with a start that usually it was _he_ who went out on a date and _Sherlock_ would be at home waiting for him.

 _Nah_ , he dismissed the thought.

Not _waiting_ for him.

That would indicate some emotional attachment, or even some awareness of his absence. There were times when Sherlock was in his Mind Palace and he would not notice John having gone away for hours on end.

Unbidden a scene flashed in front of his eyes of what Sherlock had said during the case of the Blind Banker.

 

Sherlock had said: I need to get some air. We’re going out tonight.

He had replied: Actually, I’ve, er, got a date.

Sherlock had asked: What?

He had replied: It’s where two people who like each other go out and have fun.

Sherlock had said: That’s what _I_ was suggesting.

He had replied: No it wasn’t ... at least I _hope_ not.

 

John rewound that memory and tried to zoom in on Sherlock’s face. He had looked disappointed. Put out. Let down.

 _Nah_ , John waved his hand to swat the memory away. He was just annoyed at not having got his way. As usual. He really was an enormous child sometimes.

Suddenly he wondered what Sherlock had been like as a child. With his wild curly hair, bright blue eyes, brilliance and curiosity. Demanding. Possessive.

Adorable.

John smiled fondly at the thought.

_Ahem, said a part of his brain. Daydreaming about one’s same- sex flatmate as an adorable child while having a beatific grin plastered on one’s face is a Bit Not Good if one is Not Gay._

John snapped out of it and realized that Sherlock had not yet come home.

Home.

221B Baker Street.

Of _all_ the places he had lived in, from his parents’ house, to the medical college bedsits, the various army barracks, the bleak flat he had lived in on his return before he met Mike Stamford and then Sherlock …..nothing had ever felt like home the way 221B did.

_Home is where the heart is._

_(Oh John. You IDIOT.)_

***********************

Finally it was Saturday morning and Sherlock had been ready and buzzing in his impatient and imperious way to get John ready and out of the flat by 9 o’clock.

‘How are we going? Where are we going?’

‘It’s a surprise John. Just relax!’

_Sherlock bloody Holmes. With his cheekbones and mysteriousness….Ugh. Am I going to be dragged to a picnic to find Sally Donovan as his date?! How do I react to that?!_

If John had not been so curious and antsy himself he would have noticed that Sherlock himself was a bit nervous too. Sherlock had had a long planning session with Molly and Greg.

Greg had suggested “Both of you need to behave like something is going on. Sherlock you should lie down with your head in her lap and I don’t know feed her something.”

Sherlock had looked at Greg in horror. “No!” He said. “That would be just ….weird and so awkward.”

“And since when do you care about making people feel uncomfortable?” Greg had asked with his eyebrows raised.

Sherlock shrugged. “But you know, you and Molly are …….and this is just tooo ……..too much ”and he flapped his hands around.

Molly rescued him. “Sherlock, pretend you are going undercover as my boyfriend. Ok? I will make sure you don’t do anything that I don’t want you to do. Does that sound like something you can manage?”

As soon as she said the word _undercove_ r she could see that Sherlock had relaxed. _This he could manage. This he could even enjoy._ She knew he loved getting under the skin of different characters and he enjoyed feeding his flair for drama.

He threw his shoulders back. _Once more unto the breach dear friends, once more._

And that is how he found himself here today, driving down to Greenwich Park with John, going for a picnic, on this beautiful day in summer.

********************************

Mrs Hudson had been thrilled when she heard that the two of them were going for a picnic.

“Oh how lovely for you John!” She had trilled. “Sherlock is planning this so you boys can spend time together!!” And she had given him a lush wink.

Like a Pavlov reflex John was going to say -- _We are not a couple. It is not a date_. But the words died in his throat. He could not. He would not. This time he would NOT say it.

He just gave her a tight lipped smile.

Sherlock noticed of course and mentally gave a high five to Molly. _Oh she was so good at this kind of scheming!!_

And of course he felt a small flutter of hope that this meant John did have some kind of ….feelings?!

Mrs. Hudson was so excited by their ‘picnic date’ that she packed them a sumptuous picnic basket filled with cake and sandwiches and lemonade and fruits.

******************************

‘So, is it serious between you two?’ John finally asked him, when the silence had stretched on for too long on the drive.

‘Oh John, John…….always wanting to define everything. I don’t know. It is early days yet, but yes it has potential.’

John felt a dark pit open up in his chest, and his breath seemed to be getting sucked into it. He stared resolutely at the road ahead. He had invaded Afghanistan. Surely he could deal with this _intruder_ in their ‘Sherlock&John’ lives.

_(Oh John the hypocrisy of it all! You just had a date with Amanda last week…hmmmm?)_

When they reached the car park, Sherlock called Greg and asked for directions and in a few minutes they found themselves on a small hillock in the lovely garden, walking towards a beautiful oak tree.

Molly and Greg were sitting there on a blanket with a picnic basket next to them.

*************************

_Molly???_

_And Greg???……couldn’t be Greg. He had said Greg will ‘also’ be there._

_So that meant…..Sherlock was dating Molly??_

Molly was looking lovely in a summer dress and she got up and almost skipped to Sherlock when she saw him. Sherlock dropped the picnic basket and hugged her and twirled her around, kissing her as he set her down.

John felt a bit dizzy. He sat down on the blanket as Greg patted a place next to him.

Molly had also got her own basket of goodies along so they lay out the delicious offerings, all of which turned to mud in John’s mouth.

Greg was rambling on about some case they had just solved and Sherlock and Molly were adding in some observations, but if you asked John later what was the case they talked about, he would have had no clue. All he had heard was a ringing in his ears.

_Molly???_

_Sherlock and Molly? Brilliant, quiet, efficient, brave Molly. Who had loved Sherlock forever….. The one person who Sherlock probably spent more time with than he did with John since he seemed to be at Bart’s all the time._

_Molly_.

He took a deep breath. _How had he not seen this coming?_

Greg was saying something to him apparently. ‘John? John! Hey mate..……let’s take a short walk to the stream? Give them some privacy.’ and he winked and cleared his throat.

John turned to see Sherlock lying down on the blanket with his head on Molly’s lap as she brushed the hair off his forehead and he was feeding her a grape.

A Bloody GRAPE. _Did Sherlock bloody Holmes even know that fruits existed?? He seemed to have erased every healthy food option along with the solar system and he was feeding her a bloody GRAPE._

John suddenly hated grapes. Stupid round things. One could easily choke on them if one wasn’t careful. Diameter fitted in perfectly with the bronchial tree.

The whole thing was just a few steps away from being a full-on Bachanalian orgy as far as John’s brain was concerned. He thought he was going to be violently sick or go up in flames. He wished he would. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. If god won’t take him the devil must.

He got up as though in a trance and followed Greg, silently. Greg walked to the stream slowly, hands in his pockets, whistling some tune John thought he recognized. Was it from the Titanic? Near, far, wherever you are…….damn it that song was an earworm and he was going to have it buzzing inside his head all day now.

John cleared his throat.

‘So …uh…when did this’ he said nodding over his shoulder towards Sherlock and Molly, “……when did this happen?”

‘Oh you know, the way Molly feels for him and the amount of time he spend in the lab, I am surprised it didn’t happen sooner! I mean, I always wondered if Sherlock had any romantic or sexual desires at all and if so whether he would prefer men you know but…….’ Greg shrugged, ‘the heart knows what it wants I suppose’.

John just stared at him feeling more and more bewildered. ‘Sherlock is _in love with_ Molly?’

Greg grinned at him, ‘What do you think mate?!” and looked pointedly at the pair then had left behind.

John could only see Molly’s back but she was bent over and Sherlock had his hand at the back of her neck and from the angle it seemed as though she and Sherlock were snogging. He felt as though his knees were going to buckle.

Thank heavens it started raining un- expectedly just then and they had to wind up their picnic early.

John was grim and silent all the way back.

When Sherlock tried to ask how he was he snapped at him and said he had a headache because it was too sunny and then rested his head against the window and closed his eyes.

When they got home he almost stomped up to his room and turned in early.

**************************

The next morning the headache seemed to have vanished and Captain John Hamish Watson was in full interrogation mode.

‘Sherlock…. you and Molly?’ He seemed to want to ask more but nothing could be articulated.

Sherlock started answering his unasked questions.

“Well,’ he drawled. ‘We are not getting any younger are we? You and I? At some point you will want to marry someone and have kids and settle down. What will I do then? I could have a happy life with Molly. We could retire to Sussex and I can keep bees. I could write books and she could help me in the apiary and we could make honey….…………..”

“Sherlock stop rambling! I thought _girlfriends were not your area_. I thought _relationships_ were not your thing?! Married to your work and all that?? What has gotten into you?? Do you even love Molly??”

“Yes John I do care for Molly. Not in the sexual and romantic way that you seem to have with all your dates, but I tolerate her company more than I do of most people. _Except yours of course_. And she is intelligent, thoughtful, kind, and she is very fond of me.”

“FOND?? Sherlock-- she is IN LOVE with you. How can you not see it?”

“Really? Why do you think so?”

“Why?! “ He splutters. “Because she always looks out for you. She looks to you for approval. She smiles when you smile. She gets coffee and food for you. She changes her plans for you. She never refuses you even when you make ridiculous demands. She does illegal things for you. She defends you. She thinks the world of you.”

Sherlock looked at John thoughtfully. “You do all those things too. Don’t you?”

John is stunned. Speechless.

He huffs. “There is no point making you understand anything.” And he marches up the stairs.

But as he lies down in bed he thinks over what has just been said and he wonders……

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bacchanalian orgy: a party involving a wild time and alcohol and sexual activity


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor John. He has barely got his head around Molly being Sherlock's date when the carpet is being pulled from under his feet again....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did not plan for Mycroft to be a part of this story, but how can the lovely Big Brother be left out :)

The next evening when John came back from the clinic, via Tesco, with his hands full of heavy bags containing milk and Sherlock’s favourite jam, and a jar of honey, he was not surprised to see Sherlock all dressed up and ready to leave. Another date with Molly he supposed.

However he was very surprised indeed when Sherlock came over and helped him with the bags and then helped unpack them on the counter top.

Being in love was making his flatmate more civilized that was for sure……..John was trying to think positive even as he started to feel the familiar gnawing at his insides at the thought of the words Sherlock…in love….date….Molly all in the same stream of consciousness.

‘So off to see Molly?’ he asked, casually.

‘Yes’, said Sherlock with a barely suppressed smile. ‘Don’t wait up’.

And with that he was gone, leaving John to shuffle around alone, heating some leftover soup and watching crap telly, made even more crap by the Sherlock- shaped emptiness in the hall and the deafening silence of no one shouting _idiot, imbecile_ , at the TV at regular intervals.

John watched with glazed eyes and thought it was the most boring evening he had ever spent in months and decided to just sleep early.

But he can’t fall asleep. Yesterday’s conversation keeps looping around in his head.

“FOND?? Sherlock-- she is IN LOVE with you. How can you not see it?” 

“Really? Why do you think so?”

“Why?! “ He splutters. “Because she always looks out for you. She looks to you for approval. She smiles when you smile. She gets coffee and food for you. She changes her plans for you. She never refuses you even when you make ridiculous demands. She does illegal things for you. She defends you. She thinks the world of you.”

Sherlock looked at John thoughtfully. “You do all those things too. Don’t you?”

_Yes he did. He did all those things for Sherlock. What did that mean? For him? For them?_

*********************

Meanwhile Sherlock was pacing up and down in Molly’ flat, making her dizzy.

‘It has been only a week Sherlock! You have to be patient!’

‘What more can I do now? I can’t keep hiding out in your flat every evening and I can’t keep pretending to be your undercover boyfriend. You are …well.….your face is very symmetrical Molly and a ….very …...also you have a very curved smile, and you don’t smell bad but …’and Sherlock trailed off.

 _Symmetrical face? Curved smile?_ _Don’t smell bad??_ Molly wasn’t sure if this was ridiculously offensive or hysterically funny and decided to opt for the latter. She collapsed on her sofa, giggling away till Sherlock looked ready to explode.

‘OK ok, stop with the ‘compliments’ already, please!! ’ said Molly, ‘let me think’.

They had thought things might faster but now she thought and wondered and came up with phase 2 of the plan.

She called up Greg and asked him about it. He listened on the speaker phone and said ‘Molly you are a genius. In fact you could make for a great _evil_ genius. Sherlock, mate, if I ever go missing and you can’t find my body, you know who to suspect.’

‘Huh’ snorted Sherlock. ‘If I had to pretend to kiss Molly one more time I think _you_ would have been hiding _my_ body’.

*************************

As it happened, Sherlock and John were extremely busy over the next three days, trying to solve a new case for Greg, which Sherlock thought was a 6 initially but then upgraded to an 8.

On Thursday it was quite late when they return by cab, exhausted but happy that the case has been solved.

‘I am starving’ says John as soon as they enter the flat. ‘I am going to make some pasta and you had better eat it Sherlock.’

Sherlock agreed without much fuss, to John’s surprise.

As they sat eating, John took a moment to savour the contented familiar silence, before he cleared his throat and asked Sherlock—‘So are you meeting Molly over the weekend?”

Sherlock looked at him. “Aren’t you going for that conference to Dublin?”

‘Oh. Yes, yes, I am!’ said John, startled because he had forgotten about it completely.

‘Well Molly is also attending some conference in Madrid. I was planning to go with her but Mycroft needs me for something so I can’t travel.’

‘Oh’ said John, not sure how he felt about all of this information. Sherlock was willing to travel to be with Molly while she was attending a conference?! Just wait around for her to be free in the evening?? That was so unlike him. Could it be true love…..On the other hand he wasn’t actually going to be with her…….but oh but he wasn’t going to be with John either…..

“I am not so keen on the conference you know. If you need me for your case with Mycroft I could cancel?” He asked Sherlock hopefully.

“Oh no John” Sherlock said, raising his eyebrows. “I would not dream of distracting you from your continued medical education. After all, your medical knowledge is so valuable in our case solving team!”

Sherlock meant this genuinely and without any guile and John flushed with pleasure.

_Valuable. Our team. _

So they spent the weekend apart and Monday brought another busy week for them both.

*****************************

That Thursday evening John came home from the clinic to hear the strains of the violin. The song sounded familiar. He tried to find the name and suddenly it came to him.

 _Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone_.

Oh yes! That lovely song from Notting Hill. He started humming with it.

_It ain’t warm when she’s away……._

One part of his brain observed that apparently Sherlock _did_ know some popular songs after all…..…while the other slowly became aware that this song was probably being played because he was missing Molly.

John stopped humming instantly. He felt a wave of nausea roll over him. Sherlock was being lovesick and playing such songs on his precious violin?!

How had the pendulum swung from ‘ _Alone protects us’_ to ‘ _Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone’?!_

He wondered fleetingly if there was any hope in contacting Mycroft for launching a surgical strike. But what would he say? _Your brother is in love. Stop him_?

Knowing Mycroft he had probably known about this weeks ago anyway. And had some CCTV footage also.

_Damn the Holmes brothers. Damn his own peace of mind._

***************************

For once he had been right in his suspicions.

Two weeks into the ‘Operation Honeytrap’ (as Greg called it in his head), Greg had contacted Mycroft.

John was being a tough cookie and they needed to call in the big guns. Greg was worried that if things did not reach any conclusion by the end of the month. Sherlock would back off for good. And that would be a Lot Not Good.

So he had revealed the plan to Mycroft and asked for his help with a few minor things. Spyware on Dr John Watson’s phone (Mycroft had agreed impassively, with a slight nod. Not even raised an eyebrow. _After all, why expend energy on drama when the deed has been done months ago? And why reveal unless it’s a need to know basis_!), security clearance at one singles club so that in case of any real bust up there was discreet back up.

In fact Greg’s eyebrows shot up when Mycroft asked calmly --XOYO or Heaven ? _Holy crap. The older Holmes brother knew the names of the hottest singles clubs in London? Must be work related_ he mused. (Yes Greg, best of Scotland Yard. That would be the only reason right? Sigh)

Mycroft looked at D.I Lestrade and wondered if he should share with him the confused ramblings and angst ridden secret notes Dr Watson had written up to himself on his laptop while at the conference in Dublin. Sorting out his thoughts and feelings apparently. Googling images of Sherlock and spending more than half an hour on those pages. Hmm. Maybe later. On a need to know basis.

****************************

John had entered the flat while Sherlock was still playing the song.

He took off his coat, had a cup of tea, picked up the papers and dilly-dallied till the song was over.

“So, Molly not back yet?”

Sherlock took a deep breath. ‘She is. We spoke. I thought about what you said the other day. Maybe it isn’t fair to Molly to let her think we could have a future together. I have had no experience with relationships so far.” He paused. “Maybe I would prefer to be with a man? I don’t know. So I spoke to her and she agreed that we should take a break for now, figure it out and see what would really work. I don’t want to invest in something which isn’t for keeps you know? For the rest of my life? ’

John has heard nothing after ‘prefer to be with a man.’

“What?! Sherlock??” John almost yelled at him. “You and Molly seemed so……well, _close_ that day at the picnic! How could you just tell her you wanted to take a break! _Jesus Christ Sherlock_. How do you navigate your close relationships like this?”

“I haven’t had any.” Sherlock replied, thoughtfully, softly. “Except with you. And with you….well you keep me right John Watson……..you lead and I follow.’

Something hitched in John’s heart.

 _Did he just hear Sherlock say that? That this was the only close relationship he had? With him? Maybe he was over interpreting_. _What did it mean anyway? They were best friends. What more could they be? Could they be more ....?_

What he said aloud was ’Oh Sherlock….. Is Molly _really_ ok with this?’

‘What? Yes, yes, she is. In fact I am going out on Saturday evening with someone else Greg introduced me to.’

John’s eyes almost bulged at this. ‘WHAT? Who?? ‘

‘Mark’.

John stared at Sherlock as though he had grown a second head. He clenched and opened his fists a couple of times and took a deep breath.

‘Sherlock’ he said. ‘Mark is NOT a girl’s name’.

‘Well spotted, genius.’ said Sherlock with a smirk.

John’s jaw was clenched tight and his breath was coming in fast and angry.

‘You are going out on a date with a man’.

‘Yes John. Keep up. I _just_ told you that I need to explore what I really want. I don’t believe in labels. I just want to find someone I want to be with for the rest of my life. Someone with whom I could be happy, grow old together. Till death do us part kind of thing…..”

John sees a vision of an older, greyer yet distinguished looking Sherlock, wearing specs, reading a book about bees, while a person-who-shall-not be-named sat curled up next to him on the sofa leaning against his chest, drinking hot chocolate on a cold night, with Sherlock’s arms around the shoulder. A ring on his finger.

A ring.

John got up abruptly, picked up the dishes and went into the kitchen, where he did the dishes (rather noisily) and scrubbed the kitchen (within an inch of its life) for the next half an hour.

Sherlock stole John’s laptop as usual and went into his bedroom to work through the night.

He texted Molly.

** Act Two Scene One successful. Roger and out. **

Molly saw the message, rolled her eyes and showed it to Greg.

‘Drama Queen and James Bond rolled in one’ he laughed. “We should sell the rights to this story when the happy ending is done.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will there be blood on the dance floor ? Also Mycroft wonders about eggplant emojis :)

That Saturday evening Sherlock emerged from his bedroom wearing the tightest black denims to have ever graced those slim hips, a deep purple silk shirt open at two buttons, and _good heavens_ _was that a chunky bracelet on his left hand_ ?? John’s brain went skittering away into a corner trying to hide inside the closet that said Not Gay, Not Gay while all kinds of sirens were blaring red alert.

‘Can I borrow your phone John? I am not getting a good signal.’ Sherlock asked him very casually, all the while noting the effect his appearance seemed to be having on Dr Watson.

_Pulse rate gone up, cheeks flushed, pupils dilated._

John handed the phone over in such a distracted way he never even realized doing it.

Sherlock looked up something on it and handed it back.

“Bye John”, he said and was out of the flat and down the stairs in a minute.

John had been so busy trying to prevent any of his turmoil and frankly cosmic level feelings of doom showing on his face that he waved at the closed door a few seconds later and mumbled ‘Have a good evening!’

It was exactly 5 seconds later that he wished he had followed him out.

He was still holding his phone and for some reason he opened the last search page. If his brain had not been swamped with his hormones and emotions he would have realized that his genius flatmate might as well have planted neon signs giving him directions.

Greg called him just then and John almost dropped the phone. He answered on reflex but then said breathlessly, ‘Sorry Greg, I have somewhere I need to be.’

_Sherlock you idiot! You don’t know this man. What if he doesn’t treat you well? What if he hates the violin? What if he doesn’t remind you to eat? What if he hurts you? Oh Sherlock…..how can he ever love you as much as ……Wait for me Sherlock. Let me find you._

_**********************_

Greg heard the phone being cut and punched the air with his fist. _Yesss!_

Greg was already in the XOYO club, seated in the balcony area near the DJ and lights person and he updated Molly on the phone. She was a bit disappointed to be missing the action but in a way glad to avoid seeing the confrontation. And…. god forbid if it did not go well, then Sherlock’s disappointment was something she would rather not have to see right away.

Greg spoke to his undercover operative ‘Mark’, a tall good looking man who had done some such work for Scotland Yard earlier. He was smartly dressed and already waiting at the bar, nursing a drink. He told him “Honeytrap is a go. But be careful. Dr Watson is trained in combat and is a crack shot. Back off before it gets dangerous.”

***************************

Sherlock breezed into the club twenty minutes later, carrying his gorgeousness casually as he always did, and almost every person at the bar looked around to check him out.

Greg was watching as ‘Mark’ found him and they stood near each other at the bar and ordered drinks. It took another eight minutes for Dr John Watson of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers to turn up there, in his checked shirt and patterned jumper and a menacing posture ready for battle.

As soon as Greg got the update from the doorman that John had reached the club he texted Mark.

_Lights Camera and Action._

_(OK Greg, you are also a bit of a Drama Queen aren’t you?!)_

On cue ‘Mark’ got a bit closer to Sherlock and inside his personal space. Sherlock knew what was expected but he was still taken aback a bit. He gathered himself in seconds and locked his gaze with Mark and put his drink down and moved half an inch closer.

_Deep breath now. You can do this. This is the end game._

Greg was watching the floor keenly as John entered and found Sherlock almost instantly, like a heat seeking missile, despite the darkness and the crowd.

Greg could see his jaw tighten as he saw Mark move closer and run a finger down Sherlock’s cheek, tracing his jaw.

John was coiled like a spring, like a dynamite stick, like a patience bomb.

One more move and there was going to be an explosion.

.

.

And then Mark languidly hooked his fingers in Sherlock’s belt loops and tugged him closer, their faces barely inches apart.

Almost in a flash John was standing next to Sherlock, grim smile on his face, looking at ‘Mark’.

‘Take your hands off him’ he said.

Mark looked him up and down. ‘What’s it to you mate?’

Sherlock stood straighter and tried to move away but Mark didn’t let go. Instead, he put his other hand out to touch Sherlock’s face again and John said in a tone that would have made a platoon quiver. “Touch him once again and you will regret it.”

“Hey are you his Da? He is a grown man. He is here on his own. What’s it to you?” Mark asked with a smirk on his face.

“He is with me.” John said looking at Mark.

Sherlock stood still and looked at John.

“He is mine” said John again, this time looking at Sherlock, and he held out his hand. Sherlock took his hand in a daze.

“Sherlock, I am sorry.” John said, softly.

Sherlock looked confused. _For what?_

“For being a blind idiot and a coward and a fool.”

Sherlock blinked.

Mark backed off and stood there watching.

Greg was standing in the balcony, phone in hand, holding his breath.

Many miles away Mycroft was watching CCTV live and holding his breath.

**********************

“Sherlock, I love you. I have been in love with you since the beginning and never recognized it. Please. Please come home with me. If you will have me, I want to be the one you grow old with and ......and we will raise bees together and we will spend the rest of our lives together and..... have our happily ever after. Please Sherlock," his voice hitched a little. He cleared his throat. "Just give me a chance. Give us a chance. Please.”

Sherlock could hardly breathe for happiness and he felt as though he may burst. But he needed to hear John say something and be very, very sure, because he knows he cannot survive the heartbreak if there is any mistake.

“But John, you always say you are not gay….”

John’s face crumpled at this.

“I am an idiot Sherlock but truly I am not attracted to any man other than you. Maybe I am just Sherlock-sexual,” He shrugged. “Can we live with that label? Honestly, I don’t care if you have a sex change operation tomorrow or you reveal that you are in fact an alien from Betelgeuse or you never want to have sex. I don’t care Sherlock. I just want to be with you. Exclusively. As your boyfriend, partner, lover. Whatever you want to call us. Just please let me be yours. Let me belong to you. I love you Sherlock.” His voice almost breaks here and he took a deep tremulous breath. “I always have and I always will.”

He hasn’t noticed that for the last few minutes the spotlights were on them, the music had become softer and almost everyone was looking at them.

(Smoothly done Dr Watson. Very discreet…….)

Sherlock had been looking at John all this while with a flushed face and hammering heart and listening to every word and cataloguing every tremor and non- verbal sign and finally when John paused he was too overwhelmed to say anything.

John waited for five seconds and then looked at him pleadingly as if to say _Please! Say SOMEthing. ANYthing._

And then Sherlock whispered “John”.

He managed to put into that one word every feeling of longing, desire, despair, elation, hope and love and the good doctor knew that this was a yes.

This was an Oh Yes. This was an Oh. Dear. God. YES.

And John came closer and put his hand around Sherlock’s neck to draw his face down and looked into his eyes before kissing him. Softly at first and turning passionate in seconds till they were kissing as though the world was about to end.

They barely registered the cheering of the entire club.

Never noticed Mark slipping away.

Never saw Greg doing a victory dance in the balcony while on the phone to Molly.

Of course no one saw Mycroft look around to check that no one could see him. He only allowed himself to look happy when he thought no one was looking.

**********************

The next afternoon Mycroft saw the stream of messages still being recorded from Dr John Watson’s phone.

Kissing emojis ( _Ugh. Emotions_ ) and for some reason eggplants (He raised his eyebrows at that. _Did John have a craving for ratatouille?_?!)

He quickly asked for the spyware to be disabled.

Then he texted a goldfish emoji to Sherlock’s phone and allowed himself another small smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .Martin Freeman played Arthur Dent in the TV adaptation of the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy. His best friend turns out to be, in fact, an alien from the Planet Betelguese.
> 
> .Of course like Sherlock allows himself to look sad when John isn’t looking, Mycroft only allows himself to look happy when no one is looking. Sigh.


End file.
